


it was me, waiting for me, hoping for something more, hoping for something else

by staubfingers



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Sharing a Body, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28854069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staubfingers/pseuds/staubfingers
Summary: It's another sleepless night when he touches her for the first time. No, not the first time, his boot already got into contact with her face. “Always reminiscing about those old stories,” he sighs, his hand, the real one, trailing down her stomach.The lines between what's her and what's him get more and more blurred by the day.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	it was me, waiting for me, hoping for something more, hoping for something else

**Author's Note:**

> Doesn't contain any real spoilers for the game despite the fact that they share a body. It's mainly tagged “dubious consent” cause Johnny is in V's mind, but I think you can read it either way.  
> Title is from _New Dawn Fades_ by _Joy Division_.  
> (English is not my first language, so sorry for all the mistakes ahead.)

She wears the bullet that nearly killed her, _did_ kill her, around her neck, absently tracing it with the tip of her finger as if it's more than a piece of junk. In Heywood half of the people get shot at least once, and the other half dies young. Looks like V will live up to both of those paradigms.

-

Her last conversation, the last real one that consisted of more than, “Look out!” “Shoot!” and “Fuck!”, with Jackie plays in her head over and over. They dreamed of becoming legends, of going out with a _bang._ And a bang there was, doesn't mean anyone will remember Jackie in fifty years from now, though. It somehow hurts worse than seeing him die did, not for herself but for him.

“No one will remember you, either, little street rat,” Johnny sneers somewhere in her head, and she ignores him.

-

Their first 'meeting', if you can call it that, considering he's a chip in her brain, goes down spectacularly bad. He tells her he wants to take over her body, which was to be expected, and then he kicks her teeth in, what scares the hell out of her because _how is that even possible?_

After she swallowed the pills, and wakes up from the first dreamless sleep in weeks, he's again (still?) there, sitting next to her on her hard mattress. “Truce?” he asks with a grin, taking a drag from a cigarette that's not really there and that she still can smell.

“Fuck you,” she growls.

“Oh,” he laughs, “We're going to have so much fun.”

-

Like everyone else she grew up to stories of Johnny Silverhand; rockstar, terrorist, _legend._ Every little kid on the streets of Night City dreams of becoming him. The real deal, though, is far less impressive.

“You're far more ordinary than you think you are, you know? Sure, there are a few people who know your name, _now_ , but in a few years? Months even? Not even your momma is going to know who you were. Me, on the other hand-”

“Get out of my head,” she snaps, looking to the other side of the room, however, he materialises there a split of a second later.

“I'd love to honey, believe me.”

-

She's in some part of town she has definitely never been in before, and yet she remembers walking those streets, sun shining onto her face, people pointing at her, whispering her name. No, not _her_ name.

“What's happening?” The guy who's driving her raises an eyebrow in confusion, she doesn't bother explaining she wasn't talking to him.

“I'm taking over,” Johnny says from the back seat. For the first time she's scared.

-

It's not that easy, though, her memories aren't simply overwritten by his, instead it feels like someone puts what happened to her, and what happened to him, into a blender and mixes everything so long until only a weird pulp of familiar and unfamiliar snippets is left. The thing is, however, what feels familiar is not necessarily her own memory, and one day she finds Johnny staring longingly onto the bench her father and her always sat on, back when he was still alive.

These days Johnny isn't smiling that much anymore.

-

Finding a way to get out of this mess takes her from one life-threatening situation to the next, and she wonders if Johnny is going to catch the next bullet that gets put into her brain, as well.

“I'm not gonna let us die,” he growls, same determination written on his face she felt until she met him. _Us_. It sounds wrong.

It feels right, though.

-

She can't sleep and when she does the dreams let her toss and turn and wish for never having to close her eyes again.

“You should try whiskey, preferable a whole bottle of it. Does wonders.” Johnny's lounging next to her, cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and boots still on. She wants to scold him for it, neither should be in her bed, fuck, he shouldn't be either, but he isn't real, is he?

“Is that how you could live with yourself? Whiskey and drugs?”

He ignores her, she doesn't need an answer, though, she remembers, it was her, too, who couldn't sleep fifty years prior, either.

-

“You're mine, V,” Johnny whispers into her ear when an unnamed dick pumps into her.

“ _Mine_ ,” she hisses and comes.

-

“Let my take over,” Johnny urges, the woman V wanted to make a deal with grins dangerously, her henchman's hand twitches, as if he- “He's going for his gun.”

“You know, I see what you see.”

“Let me take over!”

“No.”

“V!”

She doesn't know how, she doesn't even decide to do it, but suddenly he's in control, moving their body for her. They get out of there without one shot being fired, and it turns out Johnny is even more unbearable when he's smug.

-

It's another sleepless night when he touches her for the first time. No, not the first time, his boot already got into contact with her face. “Always reminiscing about those old stories,” he sighs, his hand, the real one, trailing down her stomach.

“Was like one week ago,” she protests, she doesn't stop him, though. She thinks she wants to, but he wants that enough for both of them, or maybe she merely justifies it to herself that way.

“No, it wasn't,” he disagrees, and he could be right, she doesn't remember a time without him, anymore.

His hand pulls her panties down, no, it's her own, stroking her folds. She is wet, so wet, her insides hot with desperate want, and she needs him to touch her. He does that then, dipping his fingers into her, tracing everything but her clit. She growls in frustration.

“Patiences is virtue,” he says, and it nearly makes her swat his hand away. Nearly.

When his fingers finally do touch her clit there is nothing hesitant or gentle about it. He takes it between his thump and index finger, pinches and tugs and her back arches off the mattress in pleasure.

“Come for me,” whispers after a while, his breath hot against her ear. She does as she's told, and feels both of their orgasm roll over her in waves.

-

“How come you can touch me?” she wonders, while they're sharing a bottle of beer. Or she's drinking it so that he can taste it, as well. Whatever. The lines are blurry these days.

“Haven't been touching you, it was all you. I'm only in your head, remember.” He likes to fuck with her, enjoys the way she tries to wrap her mind around the paradox of having two souls in one body. However, he tends to forget that she is inside of him, too.

“You want me so bad, old man,” she states and places her hand on his arm, “Admit it.”

He only laughs. It might even sound fondly.

-

He's fucking her with his fingers, this time his metal ones. They don't get warm, despite being inside of her for minutes now. It's on the verge of painful, but he's moving them _just right_ so that she forgets her discomfort over it. “Don't lie to me, you like the pain,” he growls, and as if to prove a point he pinches one of her nipples, hard. She moans embarrassingly loud.

“Good girl.” She slaps his hand away for that, the real one, the metal one still buried deep inside of her.

He laughs and crooks his fingers, meeting the spot that makes her knees weak, and her mind become fuzzy. “More,” she groans, and he pushes another finger in.

It's uncomfortably tight, is it four or five fingers now, she doesn't remember, and it still doesn't feel enough. He's not here, not truly, he's only a part of her and that's the problem.

She rubs her clit at the same pace as his fingers fuck into her, and when she's about to come he pinches her nipple again, so hard she thinks he wants to pull it off. “Johnny,” she moans, even though it was supposed to be a protest.

Seeing right through her he bites into her other one, and sends them over the edge.

-

She lets him take over again, not because they're in danger, or because she needs him to, but because he asks. It's nice, sitting by for once, and she doesn't even protest when the first thing he does is getting stupidly drunk.

“I miss having a body,” he slurs at one point, and she feels as drunk as he sounds.

“You have ours now,” she says.

-

There is a tunnel at the end of the tunnel since even if they find a way to get rid of the chip, it would mean getting rid of a part of her, as well. “Sap,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

He's just as afraid as her, she sees it, feels it, _knows_ it. “There is no way to hide from me, Johnny,” she tells him. For once there is something like sadness in his eyes.

-

He fucks her for the first time in the shower. It shouldn't be possible, but she stopped trying to wrap her head around it a long time ago.

He has her pressed against the cool tiles, and it's hard to breathe with the water running over her face in addition to that. His cock is long and hard inside of her, his hands holding her hips in place so that he can push into her relentlessly.

This won't make her come, she's hardly wet for that matter, but he's so turned on that it's enough, and when he finishes it's like she came herself. When he pulls out eventually, she feels his jizz leaking out of her, and he pushes it back in with his fingers. It's strangely possessive.

“It's not really there,” she objects.

“Isn't it?”

-

She doesn't touch him, it's only ever his fingers and cock and tongue inside of her, and never the other way around. Surprisingly, he doesn't ask for it or makes her do it, either.

“I'm not a rapist,” he says, sounding offended.

“All those drugged, star-struck girls we- _you_ fucked might tell a different story.”

This makes him weirdly angry, and she's about to call him a 'pathetic terrorist with a conscience' when he gags her with metal fingers. It doesn't matter, though, he still hears it.

He shoves her down onto the bed face first, pushes his fingers into her, ignoring how dry she is, and she'd liked to tell him that this is rather proving her point than anything else, unfortunately this is exactly what she wanted, what she _needed,_ and there is no way he isn't aware of that.

“I'm you, you're me. Don't forget that,” he growls.

It hurts and she wants his cock inside of her instead of his fingers, bites onto the metal inside her mouth, but he doesn't even feel it. “You're taking me so good,” he says and pushes his little finger into her ass without a warning. She shrieks around his fingers, considers kicking him of, instead she's taking hold of his wrist, pushes the metal deeper into her mouth, sucking on it.

He pumps his fingers fast in and out of her cunt and ass, accustoming her to the stretch until she hears herself moaning loudly despite her stuffed mouth. “You're so good for me,” he continues, “My perfect, little girl.”

She comes, and feels him shudder above her.

-

They finally get their hands on a guy who knows how the chip inside her head works. “I gather you're here so that I'll get it out of you?” he asks.

“No,” V says with a shake of her head, “You leave it right where it is. You just need to stop the program that's writing over my memories, I actually quite like how it is right now.”

Next to her Johnny laughs.


End file.
